Valentine Red
by Deiter Ginsberg
Summary: Red has a lot on her mind these days. Not the least of which, a strange young Machop that has taken to following her around from the shadows, occasionally leaving her love notes. RATED M for future shonen-ai/yaoi/slash. You read right - PokeSLASH. R
1. Chapter 1

**  
Valentine Red  
Chapter One  
**

**

* * *

**_Author's Note:_ The first couple of chapters are gonna be fine, but for all you readers who voted yes on Prop. 8, TURN BACK NOW!! You have been warned.

* * *

Red had a secret admirer.

"I don't want you," she sing-song called over her shoulder to the berry-strewn bushes lining either side of the lane. "I don't _need_ you. I already have one of your type, and he could punch a Buick to the moon without breaking a sweat."

A bush some ten yards behind rustled in response. Red sighed, brushing a long strand of dark red hair from her eyes as she shifted her backpack over her aching spine. A long walk through Owahara Forrest had sounded so tranquil and serene. A chance to commune with nature - to pick berries and sketch the Kakuna dangling like wind chimes from the oak trees.

But no. Instead, she was considering the use of her PokeMace as a means of warding off a hairless gray ape that had taken a liking to her.

"The roster is _full_," she shouted after a shadow disappearing up a tree trunk in the edges of her periphery. "I have my five primary, and another seven on rotation. I'm behind on training three as it is. That's why I was in that cave in the first place. _Training_. That's right! I invaded your home and KO'd all your friends solely for the experience points!"

The canopy snickered overhead. Red let out a bestial "AAaaargh!!" and lopped a stone into the densely packed leaves. It didn't likely connect with its intended target.

"I don't know if this is considered charming where you're from, but humans consider this harassment."

Save for the buzzing of a few far-off Nincada, the air was completely silent. She could still feel eyes watching her.

"Know what? _Fine_. Follow me all the way to Basil Town. I don't care. But the second -- the SECOND -- I get Combusken and Breloom out of storage. . ." her face twitched maniacally with the happy thought. ". . . the beat-down I will have them put on you will be of such epic proportions, the mayor of Basil will erect a bronze monument in the town square depicting me wedging my size-five boot up your narrow shanks."

Once again, the treetops snickered. Once again, Red threw her stone. Once again, it missed.

* * *

"Hold still, you accursed worm pod."

Red held her pencil up to the low-dangling Kakuna, sizing up it's proportions as it buffered helplessly on the warm autumn breeze.

It's movement wasn't it's fault, she knew. Kakuna couldn't move except to raise and lower themselves on their silk string, or to harden. In fact, this one was being awfully accommodating simply by dangling so low. It even seemed to take interest in Red's sketches. It's soulless back eyes seemed to dance a little each time Red held up the pad for the yellow husk to see, smiling at her progress. But Red figured, since it was wild and wouldn't likely understand human speech yet, a little verbal abuse could be cathartic for the both of them.

"Red my dear," she mumbled to the charcoal stick traveling over the acid-free paper. "When you decided to become the greatest fire and fighting Pokemon trainer, the world lost a great artist."

In truth, her drawings weren't all that good. Never had been either. But they always seemed to put her in a better frame of mind, and so long as her team wasn't there to see their tough young drill sergeant doing something so. . . _artsy_. . . she was content to just keep it a secret between herself, the Kakuna-strewn canopy, and Owahara Forrest.

A vein in the back of her head throbbed.

_And the Machop_, she thought to herself. She craned her neck, but couldn't spot it anywhere in the tangled limbs above. She knew it was within eyesight. . . just not specifically _where_.

Her charcoal stick snapped under the anxious tension she had been unconsciously putting into it. She sighed, flipping the pad closed and returning it to the designated slot on her pack.

It wasn't that she was wholly unfamiliar with Poke-crushes. Everyone knew about them. Pokemon, being absurdly intelligent, regularly became fixated with a trainer or ranger they had extended contact with. It was usually very mild - never much more than sporadic blushing, a desire to be picked up or held or petted, and an eagerness to please. Heck, at one point, Red's own Combusken (then, still a Torchic) had actually paused an important gym battle to give her a hug. The match had to be suspended due to the audience's cacophonous laughter, and Red had been particularly malicious with the little fire chicken's training for a month or so afterward.

But this Machop that was shadowing her. . . he was different.

Infatuation was one thing. Secretly following a trainer as she walked the hundreds of miles through marsh and swamp and forest. . . that was another.

She knew there was something strange about him from the moment she saw it. For one, it had it's power-retention belt and black lycra underwear outfit a full evolutionary level before it was due to get one. Usually they only wore them as their evolved form, Machoke. . . and finding a Machop with a Machoke's power-retention belt was fairly rare. Usually, it meant that the Machop was a natural-born fighter. But for this one. . . in the rare, fleeting glimpses of him Red had been afforded. . . that didn't seem to be the case. He was exceptionally built by human standards. . . could probably uproot the tree Red was resting under with it's bare hands. . . but it wasn't particularly defined or toned. Which was odd, as all Machops usually did was work out.

It may have just been her imagination, but Red thought she had detected a subtle smartness in it's face that day she took her team on that leveling expedition in the darkened cave. In the dim glow of her lantern, she could see that he had a broad puggish face, with wide-spaced, friendly eyes and a frog-like smile. His cranial ridges were filed down short, and his legs looked somewhat wider and more sturdy than others of his kind.

Upon seeing Red, instead of attacking or fleeing as the Geodudes and Mankys and other Machops had, he stopped in his tracks and struck his best Mr. Universe flex. Red could tell he was straining at it with all his might, and while it wasn't particularly impressive, it did nevertheless break through her defenses enough to put a slight smile on her face.

But that was one-hundred and thirteen miles ago. Now she was getting worried.

Except for a few rare exceptions, Pokemon seldom migrated more than fifty or so miles from their native area. And even then it was primarily for food or mating. This one. . . this one had uprooted on a whim, and was now a good two weeks journey from anything even remotely close to what it was used to. And for _what_? What did it _want_?

Red heaved an anxious sigh, settling against the soft bark of the tree. "I don't know, Worm Pod," she said to the Kakuna, massaging the soreness from her eyes. "Did I take something from the cave without knowing it? Did I desecrate some primitive shrine they had erected to bodybuilding? Does it want to worship me as it's god?"

_That could be neat actually_, she was thinking. _Red the god. God of Fire and Ass-Whoopings. _

A small voice in the back of her head corrected her. _Goddess._  
_  
Right. Sorry. GODDESS of Fire and Ass-Whoopings._ She smiled.

When she opened her eyes again, the Kakuna was gone. Up into the tree, no doubt. Where else? It could only travel up and down.

"Good idea," she called after it. "A nap would make a find cap to an otherwise crap evening." Red removed her beret, letting her hair cascade over her meager shoulders and freckled cheeks. She melted against the tree trunk, having long since mastered the time-honored trainer tradition of sleeping against any uncomfortable surface with no problem.

The night air began to settle as thousands of diurnal Pokemon began to nestle in to sleep, replaced at the time clock by their much quieter nocturnal counterparts. The warmth from the setting sun was beginning to grow tepid over her skin. A cool breeze stirred.

Just as her mind had begun to meld with that unseen tangential reality that is sleep, her ears, made sensitive by the quietude of the forest, picked up the faint sound of a thick silk rope being unspooled from an overhanging branch. Something hefty was lowering itself from the canopy down to the ground some feet from where she was.

"Not right now, Worm Pod," Red murmured in her stupor, eyes resolutely shut. "Momma Red's had enough drawing for one night. Come back between four to six tomorrow when the light is better." She yawned. "That's the golden hour, after all."

The thing at the end of the tether seemed to swing to get her attention, it's silk line snagging like the string on a poorly-tuned guitar.

"I told you, you glorified paperweight," Red snarled, tired eyes cracking. "I'll deal with you tom--"

Red's eyes went wide. She was maybe five inches from the Kakuna's face. It was indeed bobbing to get her attention. But not by it's own free will.

Holding onto the silk rope, sitting on the Kakuna's head like it was it's own personal tire swing, the Machop smiled triumphantly. It's bright ruby irises and silvery skin danced in the fading light glinting through the trees. It's wide, froggish mouth was curled beneath a rather prominent blush. It was obviously contented with itself.

"What the--"

Before Red could finish, it had steered the Kakuna around and stolen a kiss. Not a fast one, and not on the cheek either.

She was aware that, with blinding speed, something simultaneously wet and rough was pressed against her mouth. The Machop had his face turned awkwardly to accommodate the differing locations of their respective mouths, but he more than made up for the handicap with raw enthusiasm. The heat his eager maw gave off staggered her - almost to the point of being physically overwhelming.

Before Red could finish her first startled "MMMPH!!" the kiss had broken and the Machop went scuttling and giggling up into the tree, slipping a few times and losing his footing - more due to adrenaline than terrain. It didn't disappear this time, opting instead to hang around in the crux where the lowest branch intersected the trunk. There it sat, hands cupped over it's mouth, rocking back and forth and giggling like a schoolgirl.

Red stared after it, eyes literally the size of dinner plates, mouth agape. For a full fifteen seconds, she neither blinked nor breathed as her mind sped to catch up with what had just happened.

When it finally did--

"What the **FUCK**?!?!"

--it didn't respond well.

Pidgey and Starly for miles around took flight as the rarest word in Red's vocabulary escaped her in sonic boom form. Leaves fell to the ground. The Nincadas stopped their buzzing.

The Machop's eyes registered no mention of the outburst, instead continuing to glimmer with all the excitement of a 5-year-old on Christmas morning. Red's eyes followed it as she stood and dusted herself, never severing their gaze lest the Pokemon make another attempt.

"What the fuck?!" Red said again, though quieter. She stood at the base of the tree, small freckled fists clenched and vibrating with rage. "How _dare_ you," she blustered, face red as her hair. "Do you have any _idea_ who I am? I am Red of Ember City! Youngest retired gym leader for a hundred regions! I could personally crush you with the endmost joint of my little finger, and I--"

She paused as the Machop pried it's strong hands from it's face, revealing a smile. She watched on in fascination as it pointed a muscular finger at it's equally muscular chest.

_I_.

It then balled it's fists and crossed it's arms over it's torso, forming a gray 'X'.

_Love_.

And finally, it eased a calloused palm onto the tree branch, steadying itself on the tree with one hand as it pointed at Red with the other.

_You_.

Then it blew Red a kiss and was gone.

Like a ninja, it leaped into the canopy and vanished amid a cloud of downdrifting leaves. And as the last silhouette of sunlight disappeared beneath the treetops and the forest was blanketed in darkness, Red was left alone and dumbstruck. The Nincadas resumed their raucous buzzing - the sound perfectly mirroring the rolling, incoherent static echoing through Red's head.

Slowly, deliberately, she touched her fingers to her lips. They were still hot.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm such an unbelievable whore.

I haven't re-posted ANY of my original fanfics because, _holy crap_, Deiter's trying to _not_ flunk this semester of college! Fancy that!!!

Life's getting fun around my house these days. I'm looking at either moving to Japan or doing another stint in Americorps and THEN moving to Japan. Fingers crossed for either scenario. But for right now, I'm focusing on keeping my full course load at college above water, and sweet bajezus is it frustrating.

Anyways, for something actually RELEVANT to the story. . . it's a romance. And (here, spoiling my M. Night Shyamalan-esqe twist as a courtesy to YOU, my dear readers) if you were looking for some wet lovin' between opposite genders in the manner G*d intended, you need to close this fanfic and forget everything you saw here today. Not because there isn't gonne be any wet lovin'. You know me well enough by now to know that there is. It just won't likely be of the hotdog-and-taco variety. All I'm saying.

Spelling and grammar errors, CONTACT ME.


	2. Chapter 2

**Valentine Red  
Chapter 2  
**

"Hello," chirped an upbeat voice over static. "You've reached the Basil Town Pokemon Center. My name's Joy. How can--"

"Stow it. Red from Ember. ETA at your facility, three-point-five minutes. I want that healing dais prepped and a well-armed Jenny stationed at the door. Full-metal jacket or hollow points - none of that rubber bullet crap."

Red jabbed the screen of her Pokedex, ending the call. She flashed her badge to the Jenny at the gate, who spilled a mug of coffee on herself scrambling from the checkpoint booth. She hastened to manually wedge open the slow-moving automatic gate, allowing Red entrance without her ever having to slow her stride. The little girl didn't seem to notice though, as she left the panting and cappuccino-stained officer behind without so much as a passing nod.

The denizens of the town came to a cumulative halt as she passed. Brooms paused over the sidewalk; small children froze mid-play; a barista's tea kettle halted mid-pour, overflowing a cafe-goer's teacup, then arm, then table. All were momentarily cast in the cold shadow of the cloud hanging over the little girl's head. No one was brave enough to shiver.

"Welcome to the Basil Town Pokemon Center," the Jenny at the sliding glass doors saluted. "And might I say what an honor--"

Red snatched the woman's starched collar out of the air, bringing the officer down to face level. Red's eyes spat fiery embers. The gloomy little rain cloud's torrential fall turned to steam on her cheeks. Sparks ground between her teeth.

"Listen to me, _clone_," came the crackling, demonic voice from deep within Red's gullet. "You are to shoot any Pokemon not accompanied by a trainer that comes within a hundred yards of this facility. You are to empty the entire clip, stopping only to reload or when you are out of ammo. You are then to immolate the remains and scatter the ashes to the four corners of the earth." She twisted the collar under her iron-clad grasp. "_Capeesh?_"

"M-M-Miss Red," the officer wheezed, face crimson though still smiling respectfully. "I-I'm only authorized to use excessive force when--"

"_I just authorized you._"

Officer Jenny inhaled loudly through her newly-released windpipe as the glass doors slid open, admitting both little girl and angry raincloud into the well-lit and sterile facilities.

Once in, Red didn't stop for the Joy's polite smile or perfunctory greeting. She merely lugged her satchel full of Pokeballs at the pink-haired woman's head on her way downstairs.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Just a shortie I did during class to hold me over while my teacher flapped his gums.

Please R&R.


	3. Chapter 3

**  
Valentine Red  
Chapter 3  
**  
Stealing a furtive glance down either aisle of vacant cots, Red dandled the strange bloc of bundled paper on her knee, small legs fidgeting beneath her nervously.

It had appeared in front of her tent in the night, Blair Witch-style. She half-expected to find a clutch of bile, hair and teeth bound up in a dead man's tweed vest whenever she undid its cord string.

Staring at the sheaf of papers pressing their way against its hemp binding, Red chewed her lip. She knew what it could potentially be, and the implications were staggering. Just when Red thought to radio Officer Jenny for a status update, a gunshot rang out from somewhere beyond the floor above. There would be Pidgey on the menu that night.

Pinching a thread between thumb and forefinger, Red slowly undid the flimsy binding. The compressed brick of parchment crinkled and popped, expanding slightly like a fat man's waist breaking free of a girdle. Hesitantly, her shaking fingers flipped the first piece of paper.

Sure enough, it was a love letter.

Red's breath clutched in her throat. Though crudely drawn, she could clearly make out a gray stick figure flexing its disproportionately huge muscles. In the background, a red stick figure was clutching its hands to its cheek and squealing excitedly. Above the red stick figure's stringy crayon head there hung a floating knot of orange, yellow, and purple tentacles. It had eight tendrils branching out from a central hub, with each tentacle oozing a bright green goo.

Red pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling violently once she realized it was a Machop heart.

"I hate this thing more than I've ever hated anything ever."

A flick of the hand sent the paper wafting to the floor. She flipped the next page - a sheet of yellow construction paper this time. The gray stick figure was pulling the red stick figure out of a building engulfed in green and purple flames. The red figure had a broad, toothy smile on her face, a speech bubble above her head bearing what Red could only presume was either ancient Aramaic or crazy Machop for "My hero!!"

Rifling through the rest of the stack of mismatched stationary, Red could see that all the papers seemed to follow in that thematic strain. Saved from a collapsing tower, rescued from a rampaging pack of wild Houndoom, pushed out of the way of an old-timey train. . . hundreds of pages worth in all.

"This guy needs a hobby."

Before long, the disentangled sheaf of paper lay at her feet in great crumpled piles. Red plopped back on her cot with an exasperated screech, flailing violently at the love letters that hadn't yet made it onto the floor until they too found their way to the ground. Her head raced.

Poke-crushes were relatively innocuous things when there was already a trainer/trainee relationship in place. But when the Pokemon was wild. . . let alone incredibly dangerous, as all Fighting types invariably are. . . there was reason to be concerned. For all her big talk, Red knew personally what damage an enraged Pokemon could do.

_Still_, she thought, cheeks flushing slightly without her meaning them to. _I guess it's nice to have a fan._

She chuckled, thinking back to the kiss in the forest. The Machop was a horrible kisser, and as their culture hadn't yet invented Poke-Listerine, it's breath hadn't exactly been minty fresh at the time. Nevertheless, some tucked away part of Red's psyche couldn't help but find it cute that he had put so much effort into orchestrating the whole ordeal. Using a Kakuna as a hoist and pulley. . . that took real moxie.  
_  
BWEET!! BWEET!! BWEET!! BWEET!! BWEET!! _

Just then, the main power kicked off and the auxiliary grid went online. Red bolted upright as an alarm sounded. The lights went dead and red floodlights buzzed alive, flooding the room in angry dust-clouded shadows as ballast doors ratcheted shut all around her. They slammed closed with such force that, had anyone been crawling beneath them at the time, only the first half of them would have actually made it in.

"M-miss Red," a ceiling-mounted intercom crackled over the whirling sirens. It sounded like the Jenny from the door, although she was panting heavily and sounded wounded. Red imagined her to be clutching a tear in her arm. "Miss, there's. . . there's been a breach. I held him off as best as I could, but. . ." the voice paused as Red imagined her hacking up blood. "He's breached the perimeter Ma'am. He was like a little three foot tall juggernaut." More imaginary blood coughing. "I. . . I don't think I'm going to make it."

"Belay that talk soldier," Red stood on tip-toes in order to better shout into the intercom. "I order you to hold this center to the last man. Do you understand me?!"

"There are only two of us here."

"Woman, you better give that Joy a stick or something, so help me god. . ."

"HE'S MADE IT TO THE STAIRS!! I REPEAT, HE'S MADE IT TO THE STAIRS!!"

With a sound like thunder, tiny fist-sized indentions formed over the nearby ballast door, sending out showers of sparks with each successive punch and dent. Red didn't bother to look up as she quickly clamped the last component part into place, checking her now empty backpack for any pieces she may have omitted. Calmly she strode to the center of the two aisles, dropping to a knee as she leveled the thing her little fingers had hastily but expertly assembled at the door.

"Alright Crazy," she murmured, flipping a switch and squinting her one unclosed eye into the newly illuminated crosshairs. "Let's do this."

She waited patiently for the three-inch carbon reinforced ballast door to give way, certain that when it did, a well-placed Poke-Grenade would convey to her would-be suitor once and for all that she just wasn't interested.


	4. Chapter 4

**Valentine Red  
Chapter 4  
**  
Red cleared her throat, walking briskly along the road leading away from the charred and smoldering remains of Basil Town. Pillars of black smoke climbed skyward behind her, as did many a pitiable shriek and plea for help. Hearing the immense dome of town's city hall collapse underneath it's own structurally compromised weight, Red picked up the pace, whistling resolutely as she went. The screams followed her to the edge of the forest before giving away to the chirping of birds and the ambient buzzing of insects.

The nearest town was Basalt, some thirty kilos to the south. However, given the sirens she had heard before ducking in a ravine, Red felt that a detour through the woods would be better. She'd probably lay low for a few days in one of the little bed and breakfast communities on the Johto borderlands, give things time to settle down. Maybe take the opportunity to relax, pay a few elected officials to look the other way while she shacked up in their precinct. Just whatever, really.

Fighting her way through the underbrush, Red made quick work of scattering the remnants of the evidence against her. Standard procedure, just like all the other times. As she did so, however, she felt a soft tugging at her heartstrings. All those people without homes - or even much of a city left to live in for that matter. But she popped a rare candy and suddenly felt much better about the whole ordeal.

A good kilometer or so in, Red stumbled upon the shallow tongue of a wide stream snaking beneath the dense canopy of trees. Perfect. A chance to burn her clothes and scrub off her scent. The police Growlithe would have a much harder time tracking her that way. Red slipped and slid down the moss-covered embankment, using the fronds and thorny brush for leverage. She found a mostly dry ribbon of silt beach on which to hang her clothes.

Oak leaves, orange, yellow and red floated languidly along the brook's babbling surface, occasionally running aground on sharp river rocks but otherwise meandering harmlessly downstream towards destinations unknown. The dorsal fins of spawning Magikarp broke the water's murky surface as Pidgey preened along branches stretched out over the banks. With a bashful glance around her Red began to disrobe, hanging her dress and pantyhose and little buffered shoes on a log nearby. She wasted no time working into the water, teeth chattering with the chill as she began to scrub. Once or twice she had to slap away a Magikarp whose curious lips sought to probe her skin beneath the water's surface.

The sun was reaching it's zenith along the shaggy canopy overhead. She grimaced. Night traveling through the woods was never safe - especially in this region. Nocturnal Pokemon weren't all that keen on you stumbling across their nests, and it didn't help to explain to them that humans have poor night vision. They were usually less than understanding. Still, Combusken or Electabuzz should be more than enough to handle any trouble she happened across.

Once she got used to the water, the gentle stream actually felt quite nice on her skin. Shielding her face with her hands, Red dunked under, screaming exaggeratedly as she pried them off and the sharpness of the water's autumn chill lanced the nerves in her face. Her head and torso broke the surface with a loud intake of air, and she quickly whisked her damp hair back with a flourish.

Kneeling to the stream's muddy bottom, Red allowed her anxieties from the day to bubble out over the water's silvery surface. Her eyes met with those of her reflection, staring back at her accusingly.

The Machop had, as best as Red could tell, succumbed to her enthusiastic (and perhaps overzealous) mortar fire. It would have been hard not to. Red's trigger finger was notoriously itchy, and she'd leveled half the city with her ballistic barrage. The thing had been engulfed in a wall of smoke and fire.

She felt bad. Red hated to admit it, but she actually felt bad.

The thing was a pest. And it was a Pokemon, so it was a _dangerous_ pest. As cute as they are, you should never take Pokemon lightly. Even the smallest and weakest of them are a force to be reckoned with.

Still, she thought - what was it hurting? Her? It had been nothing but gentle with her. Maybe a little salacious that one time. With the kiss. And all that.

Red's reflection's cheeks reddened.

She knew that, leveling the city aside, she'd made the right decision. The thing was dangerous. It was crafty. It displayed advanced intelligence, it was quick, it was --

"Machh-a?"

-- persistent.

Red didn't even need to look up. Her blood ran cold where she kneeled in the water. Hesitantly, her eyes followed the voice upstream.

He was sitting in the slump of an outlying branch, little stubby feet dangling in the water, like he'd been there the whole time. His face reflected it's characteristic warmth and a bored kind of knowing. _Was that all you got? _it seemed to say.

"You monumental _pain in the ass_!!" Red roared, splashing at the Machop as hard as she could. The spray landed nowhere near him and only seemed to amuse him further. "How are you not dead?!"

The Machop shrugged, picking at a hangnail. Red felt along the soft riverbed for something to kill it with.

"Oh my god," Red wheezed, anger clutching at her lungs, making them contract. "I'm going. . . I'm going to cudgel your nonexistent brains in with a rock. Just as soon as I find one."

The Machop reposed luxuriously across the tree branch, one hand cupped under it's head, one leg still dangling in the water, regarding Red placidly. Affectionate. That was the only word Red could think of to describe the look on it's face. Which made her dig about in the silt all the harder.

"Alright Loverboy," Red heaved upon not finding a suitable weapon in the riverbed. "I think you and I have come to a misunderstanding that I feel I need to help clarify."

The Machop sat up on it's tree branch, arms resting on either side of it, giving Red his undivided attention.

"Now, it's abundantly apparent that you've somehow grown infatuated with me. And I can't blame you. I'm a hot little piece of tail if I do say so myself. _However_." Here Red drew herself out of the water, up to her waist. "I'm a complex and multi-faceted person. So while a little part of me is flattered, I gotta say, I think you'll find me a little more than you were bargaining for. You paying attention over there, handsome?"

"Machop," the Machop nodded, amicably listening to Red's tirade. It rested it's elbows on it's knees and it's face in it's hands, curious.

"_Good_. Good attribute to have in a man. I'm sure that, after this, you're gonna make some other little Machop very happy one day."

The Machop merely waggled it's nonexistent eyebrows at her. Red smiled back with added vinegar, drawing herself out another inch.

"You see, in the district where I'm from, the starting age for Pokemon trainers is ten for boys and nine for girls. They figure, girls mature faster than boys. Why not give them a one year head start? Maybe raise that ole' glass ceiling a couple of feet. And it works!"

Red whisked her hair, still sopping wet, behind her shoulders. She wanted him to have an uninterrupted view.

"Problem is," Red continued acerbically. "Being the prodigy that I am, I didn't feel like waiting a whole extra year. I had asses to kick. Badges to earn. A gym apprenticeship to rock. _So_, I decided to take a little initiative and invest in my future. A town change, a little medical gauze and some hair clips later, and no one was the wiser. Which -- and you're gonna want to lean in for this one honey -- brings me to _this_."

Red drew herself up to her full height, thin legs breaking the water's glossy surface.

There, nestled between her legs, white from years of underexposure and slightly shriveled by the cold, were a boy's penis and scrotum. They dripped wet as Red leered, menacing and triumphant, taking great pleasure in the shock alighting over the little Pokemon's face.

"_There_," she... _**he**_ cackled, vulgarly thrusting his little hips at the staring Machop. "Drink it in! _Ooh_ the _horror_! What's happening there?! Oh, the black voodoo! The torn kashmir sweater, the wet jigsaw puzzle! Up is down, day is night, candy's good for you and broccoli makes you fat! That's right you little bastard, _I'm a boy_!"

The Machop stared on, mouth agape as Red continued to thrust and gyrate. His eyes were transfixed across Red's little tan line, seemingly hypnotized.

"There," Red panted heavily after his lewd display, grinning wickedly. "Repulsed, no? Shattered your world and stomped on the pieces, didn't I? Gonna go skulk off to some dark cave somewhere, aren't you? Gonna go have a nice cry, come to terms with your tattered manhood, vow never to speak of this to any of your friends the remainder of your days? Eh? Well good!"

Red had gotten too wrapped up in his victory over the little gray Pokemon to notice that it had eased off it's branch and into the water.

When he finally noticed the Machop making it's way towards him, Red froze mid-gloat, shrinking back. The blood drained out of his face. Eyes wide, he glanced over at his red pack sunning itself on the shore. Too far. He froze there, too frightened to move, too frightened to make a mad dash for the Pokeballs in his pack, until the two of them were separated by only a few blessed feet of softly churning stream.

The Machop was an arm's length from him now. Any moment, Red was expecting an angry little fist to punch through him, to rupture his internal organs on it's way out the back of him. The thing was going to leave him dead in the water - a small consolation for all the trouble Red had caused it. Red tucked his chin and clamped his eyes closed, whimpering with the anticipation of a sudden explosion of pain.

In the darkness of his eyelids, Red became aware of a gentle caress alighting over his wrist. His eyes shot open.

The Machop's calloused hand smoothed gently over Red's arm. The touch of it's fingers was so delicate, it was like being gone over with a feather. Red shivered, and the Machop traced the goosebumps. Without warning, the Machop's touch switched from Red's arm to Red's side, petting along the base of the boy's ribcage down to the hip. Red gasped loudly, his breath stalling in his windpipe. The Machop's large, intelligent eyes wandered along Red's body, curious. His other hand broke the surface of the water and smoothed along Red's taught stomach, contracting the muscles with it's touch. Their eyes caught and the Machop smiled. It was a knowing smile. An intelligent smile. A warm smile.

Suddenly, Red felt himself being eased gently but resolutely down into the water. He exhaled in fragments. The water's chill was fresh and sharp on his skin from the minutes he'd spent above the surface. Strong arms encircled the small of his back as his freckled chest brushed up against the Machop's. They were at eye-level now.

The Machop brought a hand up to liberate a long strand of hair from Red's cheek. The remaining hand, growing adventurous, slid down and cupped Red's buttock, eliciting a sharp gasp. The Machop giggled, eyes glowing. It brought it's face even with Red's. Red could feel the warmth from before, like the radiant heat from an opened oven.

This time, the kiss was much more gentle.

Red was locked there - couldn't have broken free if he'd wanted to. He was kneeling in the murky water, chest pressed to chest, lips to maw. The small Machop's powerful arms encircled his back, meshing the two of them together. The heat overwhelmed Red once again, flooding his mouth. Only the shock of it all kept him conscious. The heat of the kiss, the friction of their skins, the chill of the water - it was like a bolt of lightning had touched down right next to him and the ensuing thunder had shaken him to the core.

Suddenly, Red locked the crux of his arm around the little gray neck. They were fighting. He had his hands around the Machop's neck and there was a great thrashing in the water as hands relocated all up and down his back and he was leveraged up. The maw, once content to be patient, lunged at the first sign of willingness. Red fought back against the heat with an unexpected ferocity. They were tearing into eachother with every available limb at their disposal, vying for control.

The Machop, though, was letting him win.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm just sprinting to hell in gasoline panties.

Oh yes people - it's a trap. Admiral Akbar would be proud. I churned this out in the wee hours of the morning, and it was kind of a frenzied writing experiment, so I may come back and take it down later to work on it. I don't know. If you like it, say so.

Again, wee hours of the morning, I may not have spell checked my work as neurotically as I usually do. If you find anything wrong, please drop me a line so I can correct it. Read and review if you can.

Deiter G.


	5. Chapter 5

**Valentine Red  
Chapter 5**

"That was so, _SO_ wrong."

Red stared unblinking up at the roof of his tent. The twinkling stars in the night sky were just barely visible through the yellowed old tarp. The autumn chill crept in easily, causing the skin on Red's arms to break out in goosebumps.

Outside, Red could hear the last crackling embers of the campfire as it died away in the wind. One by one, the sticks and logs and other kindling sputtered and hissed, yielding up their ghosts and going silent beneath long curls of wispy gray smoke.

"That was so, _**SO**_ wrong."

The Machop jabbed him in the ribs with two fingers, then nuzzled it's head back against Red's bare chest for more sleep. _Knock it off._

"You're an animal, so you don't really have a soul to worry about. But me? Oh, I'm going to _über_-Hell."

Red had been nattering on like this for almost an hour. He had sand on his back, a throbbing soreness between his legs, and was clothed only in... well... the Machop. Every so often, the Pokemon would shift it's weight, croak out it's name and thump the boy in the ribs, telling Red to be quiet. More often though, he'd kiss along Red's chest or sensually stroke down the boy's side with the back of his broad, muscular hand - a none-too-subtle warning that if Red didn't settle down, they'd be going for round two.

Staring up at the roof of his tent, Red realized that he had learned a lot over the past three hours.

First and foremost, he had learned that this particular Machop was most _definitely_ male.

With Pokemon and gender, it's always hard to be sure. Even sans clothing, it's easier to make out the sex of a specimen by markings or fur patterns. And for most specie of Pokemon, you can't even tell then unless you're a well-trained breeder. Red had assumed that his new. . . _friend_. . . was a boy from the beginning, and had always referred to it in the male tense. But now, there was absolutely no doubt. Red knew, _empirically_, that this particular Machop had a penis.

Red had also learned that, in bed, Machops aren't sprinters. They're marathon runners.

Had the Machop no regard for Red's lack of experience, they could very well have still been going at it. And, despite the Machop showing him an extreme amount of deference, it was readily apparent to Red that the little gray monster wasn't accustomed to being so gentle.

Red pinched his eyes shut. He had always pictured his first time being with some up-and-coming girl trainer with frosted blond hair and big boobs.

He had worked it all out in his head. She'd wear too much makeup and too little clothing, and would be astounded by Red's prowess both on the gym floor and in the bedroom. After he'd gotten done tapping that, Red would make for the shower and shout back that money for a cab was on the dresser. The gullible bimbo would likely get all watery-eyed and say, "B-but... I thought you _loved _me." To which Red would reply, "Naw baby. I just wanted to get all up in that sweet, sexy vagina." One lewd thrusting gesture later, the girl would cry, take the money and leave, and Red would go back into the bedroom and carve a notch on the bedpost.  
_  
It's amazing how things seldom turn out the way I want them to_, Red thought wryly.

There he was. . . with a strange creature's fluids drying both on him and _in _him. After the deed was done, the Machop had collapsed onto him with a wet splatter. Now, it felt like he was Elmer-glued to Red's torso.

"I... guess it wasn't all bad." The words coming from his mouth took him by surprise.

As much as it pained Red's pride to admit it, it had felt really good. Like, _really_. _A lot_. Which only served to depress him all the more.

Without meaning to, his fingers petted over the small of the Machop's back, tracing little circles into the sheen of sweat glazing it's silvery skin. In response, the Machop yawned, pressed an open, calloused palm to the boy's chest, and nuzzled against his stomach. Thinking the little creature had fallen back asleep, Red happened to glance down, only to find a bright red eye staring back at him. Mischievously.

"No," Red said firmly.

He felt the Machop begin to rouse. Red tried pushing him back down against his chest, but the powerful muscles stirring beneath his fingers were in no way affected by the boy's touch. The congealed stickiness fusing them together gave with a dry pulling sound. The Machop was doing a trench crawl up his torso.

"No. No no no no **no**. Go back to _sleep_ you little gray nuisance!" As Red raised his arms to beat the little gray Pokemon back down, the Machop licked his armpit. Feeling the sandpapery tongue alight over his rather ticklish flesh, Red screeched.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH! _You FREAK!_" Red brought his chubby palm down as hard as he could over it's back. The Machop giggled raucously, grabbing for the boy's wrist and pinning it to his side. Grunting, Red leveraged his entire weight against the grip, face flushing with the strain. It was iron-clad and immovable, hardly budging an inch, and even then only because the Machop allowed it to. The sides of the Machop's toothless maw curled up in an amorous grin.

"I am _SORE_ you shale-colored butt pirate!" Red roared as he slapped at the little gray body with his free hand. "Do not EVEN think about it. So help me Christ, I will rain fire up to you from hell!"

Ignoring him, the Machop kissed his way up the boy's chest, stopping momentarily at the nipples before tracing his tongue up Red's slender neck. Red turned away, shuddering reflexively. It wasn't long before he felt the Machop's bony crown nudge insistently against his cheek. He was trying to get the boy's attention. When that didn't work, the little Machop ground his hips into Red's, eliciting a sharp 'Irk!' from the boy. Indignant, Red turned to face him, his eyes once again fiery embers.

"What do you _want_, you bastard?"

Wordlessly, the Machop relinquished his grip on Red's wrist. Without breaking Red's gaze, he brought the wrist to his lips and kissed it. He planted another kiss further down his arm, grinning mischievously to hear Red's sighs and to feel him shudder beneath him as he went. He waggled his nonexistent eyebrows up at the boy, who only glared in reply.

Bringing himself to eye-level with Red, the Machop planted a kiss on the boy's cheek, gauging his response. Red could tell that the Pokemon didn't want to hurt him. He was patiently waiting for the green light.

Red sighed, rolling his eyes.

"If this takes longer than five minutes, so help me god."

The Machop felt the boy's small arms snaking their way over his muscular shoulders. Lightning flashed in the Pokemon's brilliant red eyes. And with that, as if somebody had chimed a bell, round two had begun.

* * *

Author's Note: So clearly I'm a jaded old pervert.

I didn't post the sex scene between an animal and an underage boy because... well... it was a sex scene between an animal and an underage boy. Despite my story clearly being labeled as 'M', some people might've taken offense.

So, as to the issue of sex scenes in future installments, I'll leave it up to democracy! In a few minutes, I'm gonna be posting a poll to see whether or not you, the reader, want to see them bump uglies in upcoming chapters. Should I cross the point of no return, or is the story OK at a PG-13 level? YOU DECIDE!

Also, sorry for the lack of updates. School. Work. Bought a fleshlight. It's just been a stressful couple of weeks ya'll.


End file.
